


Forged in Blood

by JadeAbarai



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail hobbs is a ghost, Dark Will Graham, F/M, Gen, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Jack Crawford Being Jack Crawford, M/M, Murder Husbands, Not Beta Read, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Slow Burnish, Team Sassy Science (Hannibal), They will suffer, bedelia is a sarcastic sassy lady, sorry for any mistakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22592911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeAbarai/pseuds/JadeAbarai
Summary: Slaying the Dragon was what broke the chains, now he was free from the FBI.Basically a fic going through the life of Will and Hannibal after the fall and what happens when old friends come for revenge.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Beverly Katz/Jimmy Price/Brian Zeller, Dr. Frederick Chilton & Freddie Lounds, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 42





	1. The Drachenstich

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is my first Hannibal fic, I am so in love with everything to do with the show and hope it shows through!

Will Graham sat in the blood-stained passenger seat of the stolen police car and wondered what Jack’s face would look like when he discovered the wreckage of the Dragon. The little paper family that Will had curated and been a nice enough distraction, but the second Jack and Alana dragged him back, it was like setting them aflame. Jack went back to his old ways, using him whenever there was a minorly tough case. And Alana, the once sweet, optimistic Alana Bloom, was bitter. Ungrateful was what they were. Will had tortured himself for years solving cases, batting bad sleep and half-imagined demons,, and just when he thought he had finally settled down, Jack yanked him back. Will chuckled this wasn’t how he thought his little suggestion would pan out . He had planned to make it to the safe house and then free Hannibal just to spite Jack, but this would work just as well. They seemed so oblivious when he offered up the plan. Did they really not notice what he was doing? Were they that blind? Even after all this time? Will suppressed the laughter building in his chest thinking about all the times they sat down and dined at Hannibal’s. The thought was so entertaining he couldn’t entirely stop the giggles. “I would love to know what has you in such a good mood.” Hannibal smirked, and slowed to turn down to a heavily wooded maintenance road. “It’s really nothing.” He grinned and wiped his eyes, trying to regain his composer. “Just surprised that’s all.” “Surprised?” “Look, the plan I have envisioned has taken a slightly different turn.” He adjusted himself in the seat looking at the woods. “You didn’t mean to free me.” Will almost thought he could hear Hannibal pout. “I was going to wait till we got to the safe house too, but it seems like the Fates had something different planned.” The car slowed to a halt in front of a cliffside single-story home. It was modern, far more modern than Will had expected. “Well, I hope the Sisters have your favor then.” Hannibal studied his face. “You seem more yourself, Will, more at peace than when we first met.” Will smirked. “I told you, there would be a reckoning.” Are you planning on finally killing me?” Hannibal's voice was like honey. “We tried that before Dr. Lecter. It doesn’t work.” Will exited the car, and Hannibal followed him, taking in the scenery. It was definitely a cliff, Will thought, looking down into the churning sea, definitely an eroding cliff with sharp rocks and a freezing cold ocean. “We would be shredded.” Will stated, finally tearing away from the edge. The wind whipped around him hinting at how easy it would be just to fall and either let the tide carry him off to safety or to just sink and finally rest. “Most likely.” Moving inside, Hannibal handed him a glass of wine while the doctor went to change into something resembling his past self; grey sweater and slacks. When he returned a few moments later he looked more alive than what he did a few hours ago, when they were in the transport vehicle. “What about hypothermia? It’s the beginning of winter.” Will drank in the sight of Hannibal. Warm skin glowed against the incoming sunset, he thought about all those nights he laid next to Molly lost in his mind place. “Chiyoh will be nearby with the boat,” Hannibal assured. “And when we emerge, we will begin anew.” “If one of us dies, then what?” Will drained what was left in his glass. “We wouldn’t survive separation again.” Will knew what fear was, but this dread was new; he had everything in his grasp and now dread had hinted that all could be snatched away. “I wouldn’t let you.” Hannibal smirked as he watched how the gathering clouds rolled in the horizon; a storm was coming. Will sipped lazily and watched Hannibal converse with the Dragon Even sprawled on the floor, gut ripped by a bullet, his psychiatrist looked regal. Will, as casually as possible, reached for the gun tucked into his waistband, maintaining his gaze on Hannibal. He could hear the click of the pocket knife but before Will had a chance to fire off the gun, a searing white-hot pain bit in his cheek and he was tossed like a child out the shattered window. Will rolled onto his side. Glass dug into his brace arms. He pulled the knife out of his face, just as Dolarhyde loomed above him. He stabbed blindly backwards, blade meeting flesh. The smell copper fueled the rage that was bombarding his senses. He tried to stand up. He felt the knife as it reentered, this time in his shoulder. The same pain that cut through him as he laid in Hobb's kitchen, he could see Jack standing above him. His rage boiled over and he yanked the knife out, just in time to see Hannibal jump on the Dragon’s back. Dolarhyde shrugged Hannibal from his back, tossed him aside, and Will watched him sail. Will rushed Dolarhyde, knife piercing flesh, adrenaline rushing.Hannibal was already back on his feet and hacked at the Dragon’s legs. They moved as one. Hannibal yanked their foe back, bit out his throat and Will carved a river into his belly. . The Dragon’s blood washed over him in baptism. Baptism by blood, his hands painted with tar in the moonlight. “It really does look black.” He reached out for his battered companion. Blood dripped from Hannibal’s jaw. e He looked devilish against the moon. Hannibal took his hand, and drew him close to the cliffside. “This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.” Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal. He felt more at peace now covered in gore then he ever did. “It’s beautiful.” He rested his head against Hannibal’s chest and let himself fall into the raging abyss. It felt like an eternity; a long fall down. Will’s old life burned away, reduced to ashes in the wake of their fall. The arms holding him wrapped tighter. A deep breath, and then the glacial cold. It was like being hit by a train. His entire body clamped down, trying to keep his lungs full. He clung to Hannibal with everything he had. The bladed saltwater gushed into his wounds, blurring his vision. He kicked, as hard as he could against the pull of the tides. A pitiless wave knocked his chest and the Atlantic filled his lungs. Black spectres danced across his vision and then the darkness took him.


	2. Gerächt

“WHAT THE HELL, JACK?!” Alana was hysterical on the phone. “YOU TOLD ME YOU HAD A BACKUP PLAN!!” “Alana, they never made it to the safe house,” Jack said again. “They never made it to the safe house because Dolarhyde intercepted them somehow.” It was a halfhearted excuse. It sounded pathetic even to him. “Please tell me they left some hint on where they are.” Her voice was shaking, he had never heard her like this. Not even when she was in the hospital after her fall from Hannibal’s window, she had never been scared. Jack needed that hard headed and vengeful woman now. “I need you to come down and see it.” Jack rubbed his eyes. He looked at the photos laid out on his desk, eyes resting on the photo of Dolaryde, laying in a puddle of his own blood. The silence buzzed in his ear. He could picture Alana pensive, running through every possible scenario, considering all the options. “I can’t just leave Margot and Morgan.” Her voice was soft, resolute in her decision already. “They won’t be safe. Not if they are alive, especially if they are together.” “I know.” He heard Morgan babbling in the background happy as can be without a care in the world. Not worried about the unhinged corners that roamed ahead. “Jack, we finish this. No more running, no more doing this the right way, no more saving Will from himself.” No more saving Will. Is that what they were doing all these years? Telling themselves that lives were being saved by driving to the brink and yanking the leash back every time. Delaying the inevitable euthanization of Jack’s favorite bloodhound all in the name of justice. He had ignored the signs before, out of hope that Will was going to make the right choice, but every time he gave him a chance, bodies dropped. “I’ll make some calls.” Kade Prunell looked at the three resignation letters on her desk with contempt. It wasn’t worth hearing Jack’s excuses. He was ruined and he’d taken his team with him. Good riddance, she thought. Signing the last one, she tossed the paperwork in the to-do pile. Now she needed to get a task force ready to hunt two of the most outlandishly dangerous men she'd ever witnessed . She refreshed the screen before her. Hannibal Lector and Will Graham's headshots appeared on the FBI’s most-wanted list. By now every signal news outlet was blasting their names, known aliases, heights, eye colors, weights. Hell, if she could have their known dick sizes she would have blasted those out there too. They were not touching a convenience store without her knowing, let alone leaving the country. She sat back and closed her eyes, listening to the news running the story again. The Enoch Pratt Library in Baltimore City was not what Bedelia Du Maurier had in mind when Jack called her for a meeting, nor was she expecting to see the array of people sitting at the conference table. Jack pulled out a seat for her. “Fredrick wasn’t able to join us, but will be given a full report by tonight,” he explained. “Quite the bunch we are.” she mused. Alana was here, as well as Price and Zeller. Freddie Lounds was present and was surprisingly gloomy-looking for her usual perky self. “What are you planning, Agent Crawford?” “Not an agent anymore Bedelia.” Jack settled into the chair next to Alana, and folded his hands on the table. “Neither are we.” Price and Zeller waved simultaneously from their laptops. “Still don’t agree with that decision at all.” Alana stated She leaned back, studying Bedelia. Bedelia met her gaze with an almost smile. “So what are we doing here? Hopefully not group therapy.” Freddie Lounds rolled her eyes . Her red curls bounced as she turned to Jack. “You didn’t tell her yet.” “I was getting there,” Annoyance in his voice. “We are offering you a front-row seat-” “We are hunting down Hannibal and Will.” Alana interrupted. Jack shook his head. Bedelia looked at them astonished, eyes widened and mouth agape, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “How?” She tried to think of anything else to say, but the absurdity of the situation was overwhelming. “Glad you asked.” Zeller jumped up, excitedly turning his laptop toward the rest of them. “The Verger Estate is funding this, so we are almost unlimited money wise-” “We just need a direction to point,” Price interjected. “We know they haven’t pinged any airports of public transportation so they either have to be on foot-” “Or car.” “Or boat.” Price finished. Bedelia exhaled a breath, dizzy from unconsciously holding it. “And what are you going to do when you find them?” Jack’s expression hardened. “Murder. Revenge. Whatever you want to call it. But I think everyone in this room has had it with the Chesapeake Ripper ” He paused, jaw clenched. “And Will Graham.” Bedelia scoffed, looking to Alana for some sort of hint that this was a badly timed joke or prank. Her was answer was a sharp gaze. Not unlike the goddess of war, Bedila thought. “Well, welcome to the Murder Club.” Freddie smiled pulling out glasses and setting them in front of everyone. “Pick your poison.” She held out a bottle of whiskey and vodka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all are liking it so far!


	3. Hochragen

When Will finally awoke, he became aware of being wrapped in a radiating warmth Instinctively, he snuggled down into the heat, and pulled as much of the blanket around him as he could. He usually hated blankets, but the chill of the ocean still clung to him, and he wasn’t ready to leave the bed yet. Will's eyes shot open as he realized he was in a bed and not sitting in the bottom of the ocean. For a panic-inducing second he flashed back to the cabin with Molly. Restless nights where he felt like a stranger in his own bed, not able to get comfortable enough to sleep next to her, even though he knew he was supposed to . Instead, he often chose to throw a pillow on the floor by the dogs and to sleep curled by their sides He quickly sat up and turned around.  
Next to him lay Hannibal, laying on his good side groggily watching him through half-lidded eyes. “Good morning.”  
Will paled. He was certain that they had died once the water hit them so why was he here. His head spun and vision blurred. Hannibal sat up and caught Will as soon as he slumped over.  
  
The next time Will awoke, he was in bed alone with an IV in his arm. He tried to quell the instant panic that rose again. Squeezing his eyes shut, he attempted to slow his breathing. He definitely wasn’t in a hospital; the slow rocking of the bed told him that much. He felt a cool hand move across his forehead.  
“It is 3 pm, Will.” Hannibal’s voice cooed to him, outside his closed eyes. This couldn’t be real. He was dead. He felt dead. He felt the ocean’s hands drag him down. This was some cruel joke being played on him by whatever gods still existed. He felt his breathing hitch and his hands moved to cover his face.  
“Will?” Hannibal was worried. “You are running a fever and are very dehydrated. We are on a boat docked in the Annapolis Harbor. You and I are very much alive.”  
Will rubbed his face once more and opened one eye, expecting to see some twisted demon toying with his sanity. Instead, he saw Hannibal. Wearing his favorite red sweater and pajama bottoms, looking a little more disheveled then Will thought possible, stretched out against a chair sitting next to him with a book in his lap. He forced himself to open his other eye and take in his surroundings. He was in a boat, laying in one of two beds that framed each side of the room.  
“What happened?” His voice was barely able to escape grating pain that had settled in his throat.  
“What do you last remember?”  
Will shifted his gaze to the slowly rocking ceiling, summoning up the memories. “I remember killing Dolarhyde-” a rush of bloodlust caught Will, and he saw himself gutting the man that dared to call himself a Dragon, and saw Hannibal tear out his esophagus with his teeth. He could still feel the blood pouring over him, running into his mouth. Pitch black in the moonlight. “The cliff. I remember falling off the cliff. Then I died.” He looked back at Hannibal. His eyes were closed, as if savoring Will’s memories.  
“But you didn’t die.” Hannibal’s soothing voice assured.  
“Something died.”  
Hannibal grinned sitting up straighter meeting Will’s blue eyes. “Only the FBI agent died.”  
Will sobered a moment. His coin had been flipped and he had chosen. He had chosen the second he told Jack to use Hannibal as bait, when he didn’t tell Jack Francis Dolarhyde was still alive. There was no more dancing in the dark fantasies that he tried not to sate. There was no longer a perfect, all American family to play house with. He was free of the d walls he’d built.. Untethered. A smile crept on his face.  
“Finally.”  
They sat there, for a long time, enjoying the comfortable silence of each other's company, until Will’s IV was finished. Hannibal expertly removed the needle, and helped Will sit up properly. s Will’s head swam, but he stayed upright.   
“I’m starving.”  
“Chiyoh will be back soon with supplies,” Hannibal answered. “We have one week and two days before we must leave.”  
Will furrowed his brow in confusion. “Why one week and two days?”  
“That’s the routine of the boat. It leaves port for three months and comes back for two weeks. I wouldn’t want to draw attention to us.”   
Will stood and stretched, enjoying each consecutive pop in his back. “You really do think of everything.” He moved towards what he guessed was a bathroom and felt the hungry eyes following his every move. It felt good to have that appreciative gaze studying him again. He wondered how he’d managed three years without it.

  
She wasn’t sure why she had agreed to see Bedelia Du Maurier but she was here anyway. Molly Graham knocked on the door again, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet. She carried a small beat-up toolbox under her arms the initials W.G. scraped into the chipped green paint. The only thing the police and FBI didn’t take other than the dogs (mostly because her husband had hid it in the wood pile).   
Finally, the ornate door opened, revealing the perfectly casted form of Bedelia. “Please come in.” She stepped out of the way letting Molly through.  
“Thank you for accepting my...” Bedelia paused, searching. “My invitation.”   
“You said you might know where Will is.” Molly kept her voice steady. “And I found this.” She shoved the toolbox towards the woman.  
Bedelia raised her eyebrows at the toolbox, and made no move to take it. “Let’s sit down first. We have a lot to discuss.” She led her down the short hallway to her living room.  
Jack stood up once the women entered the room, smiling sadly at Molly. She was tired looking, puffy-eyed, brunette hair pulled up into a half-hearted bun.  
“Molly, thanks for coming.” He greeted her.  
Molly sat down and offered Jack the toolbox. “I found it in Will’s hiding place. I haven’t looked in it yet.”  
Jack placed it on the coffee table, gently like it would disappear.   
Bedelia scoffed and tossed open the box.  
Molly peered over the contents of the little toolbox. Pictures, a few business cards, handwritten notes, and a little fishing lure. Jack slipped on a glove and removed the pictures first. There were personal moments of Will’s, the dogs at Wolf Trap all lounging in the sun, a much younger Will happily standing in a boat, a giant bass held aloft. Abigail Hobbs smiling softly into the camera while the wind blew strands of her hair into her face.  
“Who’s she?” Molly murmured.   
“A pseudo daughter.” Bedelia muttered into her glass.  
Jack placed those photos aside and reached for the others. . Will and Abigail standing in the river focused on fishing. A picnic lunch spread out over a large blanket Will glaring at someone behind the camera mouth, full of the gourmet sandwich that was in his hand. Jack felt his stomach drop as he looked at the last photo. Hannibal, Abigail, and Will sat on the familiar couch in the former doctors' office. Abigail leaning forward, beaming a winning smile, and Will and Hannibal leaning back, surveying each other. Jack flipped it over, reading the bouncy script out loud.  
“To new beginnings and happy endings. Abigail.” Jack read somberly.  
“I don’t get it.” Molly looked at the picture again. “Will never mentioned anything to do with an Abigail, or much of Lecter. Other than the fact that he keeps trying to kill him.”  
“Will is not the man he appears to be.” Bedelia cryptically stated, again into her wine glass.  
“What?” Molly snapped “I am not here to listen to vague nonsense; you said you know what happened to Will.”  
Jack sighed, eyes fixed on the photo. “We are operating under the assumption that Will ran off with Hannibal.”   
Molly recoiled in horror. “Why?”  
Jack tossed back the rest of his drink, and Bedelia answered instead. “Because they are destructively desperate for each other, you lived with the man for three years, surely you noticed his distance.”  
Molly’s bottom lip quivered, eyes burning, threatening to shed tears. Jack pushed the photos aside and pulled out a selection of business business cards, laying a couple on the table. One was his own, another was Bedelia Du Maurier’s. He then pulled out the letters, three in total. Each with a name on the front.  
“I’ll get the harder stuff.” Bedelia went to her alcohol trolley and poured them each a generous drink.   
Jack tore open one of the letters. It had his name on the front in Will’s handwriting. Molly would recognise her husband’s oddly neat script anywhere. The letter was one page, filled half-filled, all written in the same hand.   
Jack took a breath, and read;  
Jack-  
I told you once that I wanted him to run so I could follow. You didn’t seem surprised when I appeared in Europe, as short-lived as that reunion was. You didn’t seem surprised when Hannibal saved me from the Vergers and handed himself over. So don’t act surprised when we disappear. And don’t act surprised when we resurface.  
-Your favorite bloodhound  
Molly sniffed wetly. God, she was a dumb woman, how could she had not noticed the distance between them? t Had she been in denial this whole time?. She grabbed a tissue off the table, patting her eyes. Bedelia took the next letter from Jack. A handwritten recipe card fell out of it. The script was sharp and elegant.   
“Kalua roasted pig,” Bedeia scoffed. “Definitely touched a nerve during our last session.”   
“Care to elaborate?” Jack handed Molly the last letter.  
She smirked. “I might have implied that Hannibal and I had an intimate knowledge of each other.”  
“Did you not?” He raised his eyebrows surprised at her willingness.  
“Would you fuck the pig you plan on turning into bacon?” The question hung in the air.  
Molly gripped the last letter and stared at her name written in her husband's hand. Her hands shook as she opened it.  
  
I am so sorry I dragged you into all of this. I really was hoping that over time maybe I could just fall into the simplicity of normal life. Just take care of the dogs and you will be fine.  
  
The bottom of the letter contained his wedding ring, Molly stared at it through bleary eyes. Her life fell apart again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lord this was tough to write =( just trying to keep it sounding sane


	4. Mondstrahl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is hard and i have no beta reader so here it is

He heard the mini-fridge open again and the huff of disappointment from his dark-haired companion. This was the fourth time the man had thoroughly checked every cabinet for any sort of food. Hannibal smiled inwardly, it was good to see Will recovering so quickly.

“Will, please sit down. I assure you that Chiyoh will return soon with food.”

  
Will threw himself in the small dining room booth and exhaled again. “You said that thirty minutes ago.” Dramatic, Will was being dramatic.

  
Hannibal opened his mouth expecting to tease the younger man but the sharp pain from his side turned it into a grunt. He had smelled the familiar scent of infection the second he had woken up. A sickly floral fragrance, too sweet undertones of a woody rot. The bullet had nicked something, most likely an intestine, he was going to need a doctor.

“Are you ok?” the question hung in the air for a second before it was answered.

  
“I believe I need a doctor.” He gritted his teeth as pain throbbed through his abdomen and he swallowed the familiar taste of blood. Will’s gaze turned worried as he watched Hannibal lift up his sweater and look at the bandages.

  
The hatch of the boat opened letting in the cool night breeze. Chiyoh carried plastic bags of canned foods and two large brown paper bags which carried the divine scent of Chinese take out.

  
“He needs a doctor.” Will said taking the food and peaking inside.

  
Chiyoh studied her charge, he had paled considerably since she left, breathing had become more labored.

  
“Finish dinner first, then we go.”

  
Will watched as she went to work on Hannibal’s side, gently peeling back bandages cleaning off the wound. The smell of fried rice filled the room as he settled back at the table. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the delicate work Chiyoh undertook, cleaning the irritated gunshot wound with a gentle touch. Hannibal hissed when she poured the warmed water over his abdomen.

  
Will shoveled in his fried rice mesmerized. “Anything I can do to help.” He should be helping but instead, he was eating like this was his normal routine.  
Chiyoh re-wrapped Hannibal side now looking in her small black pouch for her vial. “Go get a doctor.” She stated simply.  
\---------------------------------------

  
He had lost his mind. He had absolutely lost his goddamn mind. _Go get a doctor_ , she said. Will tested his shoulder again. Still hurt like hell. He wasn’t sure if he was even going to be able to overpower her like this. But he had never seen Hannibal weak, he didn't like it. It made his entire being ache, he would give anything to make it go away. He checked the gun again. It was still there and still loaded like it was three minutes ago.

  
The home of Bedelia Du Maurier just went dark. Will watched as Jack and Molly drove away, leaving the psychiatrist for the night.

  
“I wonder if she suspects anything.” Will muttered to himself.

  
“Oh, I am doubtful of that. It’s only been like, what, two or three days since you and Hannibal pulled that stunt.” replied Abigail Hobbs from the back seat.

  
Will scoffed. It was almost comforting to see her pale form appearing before him. “Haven’t seen you in a minute.”

  
“True.” She mused looking around curiously. “What are we doing here?”

  
“Getting a doctor.”He leaned back, gathering himself. “You should know that you are in my head.”

  
The ghost of Abigail leaned forward he could feel the light tickle of her breathe. “I wanted to watch.”

  
Will’s knee bounced, he was going to have to get out of this car sooner than later. Flashes of the full moon dripped in blackness flashed through his mind. Beautiful contentment. He quickly exited the car followed by Abigail, he moved with purpose towards the heavy door.

  
Moonlight, follow the moonlight he told himself. The door would be locked, but Bedelia needed a way to get in if she was having a bad night. He lifted the fake rock that was highlighted by the moonbeam.

  
“Not too shabby.” Abigail rocked back and forth patiently. Will stiffened and motioned for her to be quiet. She rolled her eyes.

  
Will stepped inside the familiar space unsure of what to do, should he just knock her out, threaten her with the gun. Was she even medically trained or was she just a psychiatrist? His mind raced through every scenario he could think of. Now he really wished he had worked more kidnapping cases instead of homicide.

  
“You're overthinking it.” Abigail was by the stairs “It's like holding your breath in water, you just do it.”

  
Will kicked off his shoes, walking as quietly as possible up the stairs. He could hear her moving in the bathroom, running water. Light filtered under the bathroom door cut off every now and then by her feet passing in between. Abigail gave him a thumbs up.

"See, just like Dad."

Will gritted his teeth. He didn't want to know which dad she was referencing, instead focusing on the sounds in the bathroom. He waited until he heard the click of the wineglass. Throwing open the door, grabbing her by her blonde hair, covering her mouth. He held her up to the bathroom mirror locking eyes. She thrashed about trying to tear her self free.

  
“Scream and I’ll shoot.” He threatened softly into her ear. “Remember I am twitchy.”

"Good job!!" Abigail was jumping for joy in the doorway. Will couldn't help but smile back at her reaction.

"Pipe down, Abby. Someone will hear you."

Bedeila froze and Will stiffened realizing he had spoken out loud. Panicking he bashed the butt of the gun against the back of her head.

"Oh, she isn't going to let you live that down is she."

"Abby, just get the door."


	5. Nachtschatten

_Bedelia, what have you gotten yourself into?_ She asked herself finally forcing her stiff body upright. She didn’t dare open her eyes yet, she knew what she was going to see and she would rather just get this whole ordeal over with as soon as possible. And the last thing she wanted to see was Hannibal fucking Lector and his half-crazed chihuahua boy toy cutting her open.

“Finally.” A female voice said. Curious, Bedelia slowly opened her eyes.

“Of course.” She answered herself dryly. “Why did I bother?”

Chiyoh smiled pointing her rifle at the older woman’s head. Why was she swinging that thing around still, she wondered.

“Get up.”

“Why?” Bedelia's patience was starting to fray, she felt the cracks that had formed on her carefully tended demeanor start to shift.

Chiyoh regarded her with amusement. “Shall you go get another one?”

It took Bedelia a second to realize that Chiyoh wasn’t talking to her. Steeling herself, she turned to see the man that bashed her over her head.

“Will.”

He had dragged a kitchen chair over to the bunk where Hannibal was turned over asleep. He looked certifiably insane sitting there in nothing but his boxers, leg jumping restlessly, holding a takeout container of unknown contents; he looked positively panicked. She managed to hold back a laugh as he glared at her.

“Bedelia.” He spoke through a mouthful of food.

“I see Hannibal taught you how to fetch.” She couldn’t help herself, seeing the sneer form across his face was just too priceless. “How’s _our_ husband?” she purred.

“Don’t you ever shut up.” There it was, jealousy. Spite. Anger. The real Will Graham that was once buried under years of practice now was swimming, barely contained by the thin layer of skin that kept him submerged.

“I find it less entertaining.” She directed her next question to Chiyoh. “How long have I been out?”

“Five hours. Now get up.”

“No.”

“Oh fuck this.” Will got up suddenly and grabbed a fistful of her hair twisted her face up to his. “Get.Up.” His eyes burned furiously. She felt her stomach drop suddenly regretting her last few choices of words. Will started to lift her up by her hair until she was standing upright. “You’ve been out for five hours and his fever has gotten worse.”

It dawned on her then why she was even here, she hadn’t seen Hannibal shift once since she had awoken.

“Ah.” She looked down at the unconscious killer, he had lost a lot of color and a cold clammy sheen had glazed his skin. The doctor part of her wanted to put the poor beast out of its fevered misery. The woman that went to Italy however, didn’t necessarily want to be devoured. There was a part of her that wanted Hannibal to just to take his payment and get it over with. Quite the dilemma she found herself in.

“Just fix him.” He returned to his watchful seat next to the bed.

“And if I don’t.”

“Then Dr. Lector won’t be the one you have to look over your shoulder for.”

“Better the monster I know than the one I don’t.”

* * *

Freddie settled into the oversized lounge chair next to the tube that contained Fredrick Chilton, this had become their routine until Fredrick was able to leave on his own. She recounted to him the founding meeting of the Murder Club and passed along any relevant new she might have heard down her many grapevines. And he would tell her about his day or his surgeries or his fantasies. He was optimistic as he could be as a fried mass of meat and bones, Freddie liked that about him. He had been on the verge of death so many times by her Murder Husbands and he took it all in stride.

She plugged in her laptop and kicked off her shoes. Opening up the document that they and started a few weeks ago. _Love Crime: A True Story by Freddie Lounds and Fredrick Chilton._

“ ‘iting ‘gin?” Chiltons voice scratched. His face was littered with patches here and there of skin grafts and bandages, but he did have a mischievous twinkle in his eye that told her he was hopped up on painkillers.

She shook her vibrant curls. “Nope, not writing one thing.” Smirking as she typed very deliberately on her computer. “Now the real question is should we write about our hunt for the boys or the FBI’s bungling leading up to them escaping?”

“ ‘oth ‘ventually.”

“Of course.”

Hours passed in comfortable silence as they pair occasionally quipped at each other. Fredrick seemed content just to watch her most of the time she visited, she didn’t mind. It was the lest she could do after everything and it’s not like she saw anyone else coming in or out. Hell, all Jack had sent was a letter letting him know about their new after-work activities. Alana at lest came in person once she saw, dressed to the nines telling him about how sorry she was for everything.

“ ‘eautiful.” Chilton mumbled, interrupting her thoughts.

“Careful there hot stuff. I don’t think there is room for two in the lovely tube.” She teased flashing him a bright smile.

Fredrick wheezed out a quick laugh before erupting into a coughing fit for a few moments. Freddie winced inwardly hoping he didn’t notice the pained look in her eyes.

* * *

The black sea that loomed below him churned angrily, Jack peered over the blood-stained cliff. They couldn’t have survived in the icy water for long but then again maybe they could have. He huffed rubbing his temples with one hand. The full moon illuminated the battleground black stains dripped down from every corner of Hannibal’s little hideout.

In the center of it all was Dolarhyde’s body. No longer the Fairy but a Dragon, sacrificed for the stupid game Jack let be played out.

“Are you blind?” Her voice rang out from the cold darkness around him.

“Beverly…” He shook his head scanning his surroundings. Just black, the only light source coming from the moon high above him. Odd no stars but maybe it was just one of those nights.

“Jack!” He jumped turning around, Beverly was standing before him arms crossed looking furious.

“Jesus woman! What?”

She looked exasperated. “I asked you a question? Are you blind?”

It was Jacks turn to be annoyed. “No, Bev. Aren’t you dead, why are you here?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Wooooow Jack, low blow.”

He rolled his eyes turning away looking back at the corpse.

"Where did they go?” She asked.

Jack’s temper boiled. “DAMNNIT BEV!! I DON’T KNOW!”

He felt her hands squeeze his shoulders as she whispered in his ear. “Look at the evidence.”

Jack woke up with a jump, if dreams were a way of his subconscious telling him he missed something then he needed to trust his gut. He sat up throwing off the covers grabbing his phone on the way up to his home office. Bevs words rand through his head as he threw open every file he had on Hannibal and Will.

_Look at the evidence._

Evidence said that the safe house was made for two people in mind. Evidence said that Will and Hannibal spent enough time in the house to change clothes and eat a small dinner. It said that there was a struggle and a body had been mutilated. Both parties were injured and both fell off the cliff. So what was he missing?

He looked at the carnage running a hand over his face. “Come on old man, you did this long before you had a team.” He muttered.

So much blood.

Blood.

The realization hit him with the force of an eighteen-wheeler, they were injured. If they were injured then they needed a doctor. Jack’s heart twisted in a panic as he fumbled for his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is a time jump! wish me luck!


	6. Flitterwochen

_Three weeks later_

Will was losing his damn mind in the small boat. They set sail from Annapolis as soon Bedelia was taken care of, making their way down the east coast towards Florida. Chiyoh took charge of sailing the boat during the night in an attempt to let him sleep. Not that it was working. He tossed over again watching the darkness above him.

“One more day, dear Will.” the heavily accented voice assured him from across the room.

Will sighed. “If I have to stay in a boat this long ever again if better be the size of the Titanic.”

“Noted.” Hannibal flicked on his bedside light and grabbed the tome he had been pouring over the last few days. Will watched the other man with a bored curiosity.

“How many times are you going to read that book?”

Hannibal smirked shifting his pillows to support his upright position. “As many times as I wish.”

Will huffed and turned over again, forcing his eyes closed. He silently willed his body to attempt some modicum of rest but waves of insomnia crash over his sore limbs. So he rolled over again and kicked off the blanket stuffing it in-between his knees.

“Will.” Hannibal’s voice hinted at amusement, Will could feel the smirk on the other man's face burning a hole into his back.

“What?” He snapped back more annoyed at the fact he couldn’t get comfortable and now he was freezing.

“Would you like me to read to you?”

Will crinkled his face in confusion. “Do I look like I need a bedtime story?” He did his best to recover himself with his blanket. He probably looked like a spoiled brat but at this point, he didn’t care. He just wanted to sleep.

His question was answered with the familiar sound of the only comfy chair being dragged over. His mattress sunk as Hannibal stretched his legs out and settled. Will let out a defeated sigh and turned over to face his reader, might as well try to enjoy it. Closing his eyes he focused on the thick accent letting the rocking of the boat carry him to sleep.

Mornings in Baltimore usually consisted of Hannibal waking up at 4 am sharp, working out for an hour, taking a decent shower, dressing for the day, then breakfast. Mornings with Alana and Chilton were less than ideal, he still woke up at 4 am and still worked out for an hour or so, but showers were once a week supervised, and breakfast was tasteless. Alana always made a point to have breakfast with him, a pointless gesture but he welcomed the chance of conservation that didn’t consist of rhyming his name with cannibal.

Mornings with Will on this little boat were delightful bliss, even through his haze of painkillers and antibiotics he was able to savor every moment. Observe things he would have never dreamed of knowing, like how Wills curls wildly stuck out of his head and shake with every step as he stumbled into the bathroom every morning. Or how at 2 am every night Will would kick everything off the bed in his sleep and his mouth would fall open slightly. Sometimes he would even hear Will singing softly in the shower or humming a tune while making breakfast. Hannibal wished he could watch him forever but settled for capturing every moment in his mind.

This morning, in particular, was spectacular. He looked down at his legs to find Will Graham curled around him still deep in sleep. He noted every crease, wrinkle, curve, and pigment sketching the image in this mind for further study. He didn’t dare move just yet letting the moment last as long as possible. He could hear Chiyoh opening the hatch much too loudly and felt Will shift in return. He would have to talk to her about her manners at some point.

“We are here.” She called down.

* * *

The smell was almost non-existent. Usually, there was supposed to be a putrid scent of decay but the was nothing but maybe the hint of copper in the air. It reminded her of an art installation she saw once in DC, reds and golds splattered around her like a broken halo. Shattered bottles and glasses formed a bed of crushed wings that the former psychiatrist now lay on.

Kade Purnell ran a shaky hand through her short blonde hair. She had interviewed this woman once heard her voice walk her through the Chesapeake Ripper’s thoughts. Now she was torn apart and put back together like a discarded doll that was passed down too many times.

She watched as her team processed the crime scene silently wishing Jack would have just kept his damn job and cleaned up this mess himself.

* * *

Price and Zeller put the last touches on the table of munchies they had spread out on the coffee table. In about three minutes the second official meeting of the Murder Club would kick off in full force.

“I really should have gotten the pins.” Zeller mumbled looking down at the veggie pinwheels.

Price squeezed his shoulder. “I am sure Freddie will have those soon enough.”

The doorbell chirped.

“Time for business.” Brain sighed. 

Price threw open their front door giving whoever his biggest smile. “Wel-”

Alana’s eyes shut whatever clever thing he was going to say right out of his mouth. Dressed to the nines like usual, red lips stark against her porcelain skin. Her dark hair fell in waves around her framing her face, Price wondered if she always had looked at him with such poorly hidden disdain.

“Hey.” that came out way more sheepishly then he meant too.

Alana moved past him, “Keep the door open Jack is helping with Dr. Chilton.”

“Ok.”

Her eyes scanned the little home, messy but not outrageously so she guessed Jimmy did most of the cleaning. Lots of pictures vacation pictures. Lots of vacation pictures with Beverly Katz. She picked one up looking at the smiling faces lounging on the beach.

“Didn’t know that you guys spent so much time together.”

Brian fidgeted with an invisible piece of lint on the couch. “Yea, you know…” He sniffed watching the door.

Price was struggling to help guide Dr. Chilton through the narrow entryway Jack wasn’t making it any easier seeing as he was pushing Fredrick a little bit rougher than necessary.

“Will you please just be gentler?” Freddie’s voice called out from behind Jack.

“Look, you asked me to push him, so I am pushing him.” Jack replied rolling Chilton into the seating area.

Alana watched as their makeshift team settled and set up laptops, she listened to the quiet greetings and murmurs of rumors.

Jack cleared his throat silencing the room, he was always good and being imposing. “They found Bedelia.” Freddie smiled pulled up her article. “Thanks to Freddie,” he sighed. “Price and Zeller intercepted the DNA results from the hair found, it was defiantly Grahams.”

The room got uncomfortably quiet. They had all been affected one way or another by Lector and that had been manageable. Freddie and Fredrick wrote their books and Jack got to feel good about himself. Alana spun herself gold, Margot and Morgan had been the only thing that kept her sane most days.

But Will’s betrayal hurt. Alana trusted Will with her life, she trusted him to make the right decisions. She would have never guessed that between the murder attempts and the psychological metaphors that the two men were courting as the late Bedelia put it.

“She was found in a motel near the Myrtle beach. Completely torn apart.” Freddie turned her computer around showing everyone her photos. Alana felt the familiar roll of nausea making its rounds through her body.

“Any ideas?” Jack asked

“They must be traveling together.” Price mused staring at his iPad.

“Maybe even a third person, no legit sightings on any tip lines yet.” Zeller popped a chip in his mouth.

“Find Will and we find Hannibal, find Hannibal and we find Will.” Alana muttered.

“ ‘ill isn’t as ‘efined as ‘annibal.” Chilton’s gravely voice croaked. Freddie gave him a warm smile.

“Will is going to make mistakes.” Jack surmised nodding his head.

“Hannibal with fine-tune him quickly though.” Price stated

“He wouldn’t change him though,” Alana could see that now, Will was always like this. He tore apart Randell Teir too, she thought, all because he hurt his dog. “Will would still have his dogs and still fish and still tinker with his motors, just as much as Hannibal would still have his expensive wines.”

“Are you saying we track down wine purchases?” Zeller looked up confused.

“No, she is saying track down the dog food.” Price smiled.

Jack leaned forward, fingers steepled deep in thought. “Track them down like before in Europe.”

“Margot and I have already discussed this,” Alana put on her business face. “We will put out a bounty, keep keen eyes on any patterns, eventually they will have to leave the U.S. and when they do Hannibal will go to Florence.”

“Why would he go back to Florence?” Freddie asked

“ ‘annibal ‘ould love to show ‘ill ‘lorence.” Chilton answered.

Freddie rolled her eyes. “He can’t be that predictable. He must know that we would know.”

“Florence is part of him. He won’t stay away for long. Even if Will tries to talk some sense into him.” Jack stated.

The uneasy silence fell over the group again occasionally interrupted with a wheeze from Dr. Chilton. Is this what it was going to be every time? Alana’s lip curled into a snarl, fear is what drove them together to even consider putting aside their differences and work as a team. Now that same fear was hindering them. She wasn’t going to play games like Mason did, no more deals with the Devil. Next time she would lay eyes on Lector and Graham she would personal stick a bullet in their heads.

* * *

Will was just happy to be on land. The second Hannibal unlocked the door to the beachfront safe house Will rushed in and collapsed onto the surprisingly modern couch. Hannibal had given Chiyoh a list of things to do, told her to return in a few weeks but to keep in touch and sent her on her way. Then they were alone. Actually alone.

He could hear Hannibal moving around the home checking to see if everything was in place. He should probably get up and help but what would he even say. _Sorry for throwing you off a cliff hope you don’t take that personally. Also thanks for saving my life, by the way, I killed your psychiatrist_. He buried his face in his arms willing himself just to disappear.

This is what he wanted, this is what he thought about every second for the three years he played house. But now that he was here he was stumped on what he was doing. Part of him expected to wake up any second and shatter the dream; the other part realized that this was real and there wasn’t any reason why he should hold back.

He let out a frustrated groan and sat up, Hannibal hadn’t come downstairs yet. Will took a deep breath and made his way to the stairs.

The house was very beach house, white walls highlighted with blues and greens, sandy hardwood floors, wicker furniture. Will followed the sounds into one of the bedrooms where he found Hannibal meticulously going through every drawer. Slightly bent in an attempt to save his healing side, Will silently kicked himself for not coming up sooner.

_Do you ache for him?_ Bedelia’s words echoed around him as he watched.

“Yes.”


End file.
